| These are the three simple words I want on my tombstone. The suggestion was made by a group of my friends, Kash mainly. I always have to have one more. One more cigarette, for the most part. At the end of a long night. I want to milk those last brief moments. But I think the phrase is rather fitting.
After deciding this, what would I want one more of if I knew I had 24 hours to live?
How about one more drink? A cosmopolitan. One more phone call? To my mom, if she were still living. If not her, then Deb. One more cheese steak. Never on Sunday, please. One more dance, one more song, though I don't know which one. One more painting? There aren't too many in existence, but I could bang one out in a matter of hours. One more node? Maybe. One more roll? Probably. One more trip? Definently! One last orgasm? One last roll on the futon, with the sweetest last kiss letting me know they're not scared anymore, and this is what they wanted the most too. Finally. Dying would be easier then.
Oh yeah, and just one more cigarette. | 
